Heartstrings and a Melody
by JanieHart
Summary: Hijiri and Saionji. Something dark rises over the horizon when Hijiri accepts a deal to play in a concert with a famous singer.
1. Default Chapter

Just writing to write. A little something between Saionji (that jerk from his school!! Not Utena's!!!) and Hijiri. Maybe to be longer, I dunno. 

**Heartstrings and a Melody** By Janie Hart 

_Once upon a time, there was a violinist._

"Hijiri-sempai!" called out one of the lowerclassmen after class. "Come play for us!" 

"Gomen," Hijiri replied, smiling at their eager faces. "Not today. How about tomorrow?" 

_From the moment he touched a violin, he could play unlike any other._

"Busy, sempai?" 

"Ah," he nodded. "I have to meet with someone from the music company. I think they want me to play for one of their singers." 

_This young violinist was destined to be one of the best musicians in the world, and in his travel through his lifetime he would encounter a number of strange beings and creatures and influence an endless number of people._

"A singer? Permanently?" He, Yuka, was wide-eyed. "Wah!! Are you leaving us, sempai?!" 

"No, no, just for a song," he reasurred him. 

_A lord of demons hunted him. Angels of death saved him. Even so young, he had experienced the loss of a loved one. The demon was defeated, and he was free to play again. Even so, he was not completely safe._

"Jaa ne!" the student cried. 

"Ja," said Hijiri as he exited the gates of their presigious school, violin case in hand. Suddenly, someone took the case from him. 

"What do we have here?" the person said. 

_He had a rival, the son of a nobleman, who was jealous that such talent would befall such a lowly peasant._

"Give that back, bastard," Hijiri growled. 

"Tch! _I'm_ the bastard?" Saionji sneered at him. "I just wanted to see your intrument. You've been through so many." 

"No thanks to you," he answered. "Done playing with fire? Or are you going to destroy the auditorium again?" 

"That wasn't me!" Saionji denied angrily. 

"We all know it was," Hijiri said, delighted that the other teen was pissed off. A month ago, the school's auditorium had burned down - but because of the demon Sagatanas. But because of Saionji's widely known hatred of the musician, everyone thought he did it so Hijiri wouldn't play at the concert. (They held it at another school instead.) Hijiri didn't want to correct them. 

Saionji set the case on the sidewalk and took the violin out. 

"Hey, be careful with that!" Hijiri protested, reaching out. 

He side-stepped the violinist, setting the instrument under his chin in preparation to play. "I will, I will, I just want to try it out," he promised smoothly, lips still twitched in a smirk. Saionji played, and he was very good - several people stopped to listen and they clapped when he finished the short piece. 

"Not bad, you were off near the end," Hijiri said grudgingly. 

"It's your violin, it's old," Saionji complained, finally giving it back. "I don't know how you play with this junk." 

Hijiri placed it up to his own chin, smiling thinly. "It's not the instrument. Just the player." And then he played - and it was beautiful. Anyone that could hear stopped what they were doing to listen, and they cheered when he was done. 

"Show off," Saionji growled, tossing his dark hair which almost reached his shoulders. "Let me see that violin again!" 

"No way," he answered, skipping awkwardly back and away. He stumbled, starting to fall back onto the road. 

_Except, it wasn't the rival he had to fear._

A truck blazed down the road, too close to stop in time. Hijiri's eyes widened, dark green, and he clutched his violin. 

Then there was a tug at his shirt, and the force pulled him back from the street and out of harm's way. Saionji had grabbed him, and they tumbled back onto the sidewalk. 

"What the HELL are you doing, idiot?" Saionji berated, pushing Hijiri off of him and then standing. "Dancing out onto the road?" 

Hijiri sat on the ground for a full minute, trying to get his heart to settle after the close encounter. "I.. I..." He looked up. "...Thank-you." 

The other boy paused for a second, giving another sniff before glancing away. "Don't get mushy on me, sempai. I was just trying to save the violin. I figure I owed you that much." 

"Heh, bastard," Hijiri said, though without the venom he usually had. "What good is a violin if I'm dead? But you were never one to think too far ahead, anyway..." 

"Oi! What's with that mouth? What a thing to say with your savior!" 

"Savior?" Hijiri laughed. "Maybe I was better off with the truck." 

"Anyway..." he grumbled, sliding the violin case over with a light kick. "Here's the case. Don't go running out to busy roads again, all right? Idiot." Saionji walked away, hands in pockets. 

"..." Hijiri placed back his violin and stared after the retreating figure. He stood, too, and walked away, heading to his meeting. 

Across the street, a woman with coal-black eyes watched... 

~_._~ 

Notes: Yay! This was fun. 


	2. box

Notes: Saionji calls Hijiri "Sempai" in my fic more out of sarcasm, not respect. More of a joke to him. :D (But thanks for asking, Twylise) 

**Heartstrings and a Melody** by Janie Hart  
Chapter 2 

--- 

"Konnichi wa," Hijiri said politely as he stepped into the office. The room was well-furnished with scrolls and vases, giving the appearance of more than just a simple office. 

"Welcome, welcome, Minase-san!" greeted the manager as he ushered the violinist in. There was an older woman lounging on one of the two long couches. "Please, sit down. It's an honor to have such a young prodigy here." 

"Good afternoon," said the woman, her voice melodic and low. "Is this the great Minase Hijiri I've heard so much about from Hayai-kun?" Hayai was the manager. 

"Indeed, indeed." 

"It's nice to be so well-regarded. And are you the singer-san?" Hijiri smiled, taking note of her tiger-like gaze and confidence. Her black hair fell in long ringlets, melting into her liquid black dress, and when she smiled in return for a moment he felt caught in a predator's esteem. 

"This is Kashu Shosha, and she is 'singer-san,'" the manager chortled. 

Hijiri bowed. "Pleased to meet you, Kashu-san." 

She inclined her head. "Likewise, Hijiri-san." 

"Let us get started with the details, shall we?" 

--- 

Three hours later, broken by tea and snacks, Hijiri had signed on to play for a special concert with this Kashu Shosha. 

Kashu slid her pale hands around Hijiri's own. "Before you go, could you do us the honor and play something for us? If you don't mind, of course." 

"O-oh, oh! I wouldn't mind at all!" he squeaked undignifiedly, unconsciously tightening his grip on the handle to his violin case. Hijiri didn't know why he was so nervous around this woman. She seemed kind enough, mature (over ten years his senior), but her deep black eyes threatened to swallow him up forever if he looked too long. 

Kashu and her manager allowed him a few minutes to warm up, and when he did, Hijiri played a short song. They watched him, enraptured, and gave an audible sigh when he finished. 

"That was beautiful... As a token of my appreciation, and of our new working relationship, I would like to give you a gift," she said, with a small clap. 

Hijiri shook his head. "You don't need to..." 

"But I insist! Hayai-kun, could you please get the box next to that vase for me?" 

Hayai returned with a small, rounded, wooden black box, and handed it to Hijiri. The violinist wondered for a second if it could be jewlery, and opened it. A figure of a dancer inside sprung to life, and gentle music floated from it. 

"It's a music box," she murmured to him. "Play it at night, and it will help you sleep." 

"I don't know if I should take this," Hijiri insisted, flattered, but motioning the box towards her. "And I sleep fine." 

Kashu gave him a secretive smile, stared hypmotically into his green eyes, and cupped Hijiri's other hand over the box to close it. "Please keep it. It is a gift... I'll see you soon?" 

He mutely nodded, and then was ushered out the door. 

--- 

Not a block away from the building,k while waiting for a bus, who should come and find Hijiri stuck in a daze? 

"Oi! Mi-na-se!" Saionji shouted, stressing each syllable and giving a devious little grin. "What brings you in this area, _sempai_? Shouldn't you be off playing into the woods, luring all manners of creatures to you?" 

"I was just coming from an interview... Saionji, why are you here?" Hijiri said, surprised. He gipped the music box to his side. 

"Me? There's nothing wrong with running into a fellow student and saying 'hello,' is there? Besides, my uncle runs the building next door." He smirked. "I saw you walking and thought - why not bless the peons with my presence?" 

"Peons?" Hijiri echoed, a touch annoyed. 

"What are you hiding there, hmm? New rosin for your bow, maybe? Or - a present from your secret lover!" Saionji was trying to look around Hijiri, but the shorter teen stepped back and held the box in one hand behind him while using his violin case like a shield in the other. 

"It's nothing! Hey - stay back," Hijiri protested. 

"Aww, come on, let me see. It can't be _that_ great, could it?" Saionji linked arms with Hijiri, twisting it back and around, groping for the box. It tickled, and Hijiri laughed, though he was angry, thinking that he shouldn't have let Saionji get close enough to to _that_. He didn't let go of the box though the other boy wrestled at his fingers. Before their potions could become TOO embarrassing, Saionji quickly let go. 

"Suit yourself," he said, calm and placid as could be, as if he hadn't moved at all. 

"Bastard," Hijiri breathed, cradling the music box to his chest. "Don't _do_ that! This is mine!" 

Saionji looked crossly at him. "Whatever you have, I probably already have ten of!" 

"Then quit bothering me and go home and play with your toys!" he shouted hotly. He despised it when Saionji flaunted his financial assets. 

"My parents send me gifts from all their business travels," he said proudly. "You should see it sometime, I bet your unbred mind could barely comprehend it all." 

"Well that's great for you," Hijiri snapped. Then he sighed, shook his head, and went quiet. He felt down all of a sudden. 

"Sempai? Hey, senpai? Minase?" Saionji asked, aware of some kind of faux pas he had committed. Then, he visibly flinched. "Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to... um..." 

Hijiri looked up. "Mean to what?" 

"Well, er, your parents." Hijiri was an orphan. 

"Oh..." 

"Sorry I - " 

He cut in. "Don't." 

They fell silent, awkward. From the hairs prickling at his neck, Hijiri knew that Saionji - _Sainonji_ - was looking at him with some measure of pity, and again he was annoyed at himself that he would let the other boy bother him so much. 

They remained quiet until Hijiri's bus came, to which Saionji muttered a apologetic "Ja ne." And then they parted. 

--- 

TBC 

Notes: Poo :( That turned unexpectedly depressing at the end! Buttheads. 


End file.
